


Game

by Aya_A_Anderson



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dystopia, Multi, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-08 13:09:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_A_Anderson/pseuds/Aya_A_Anderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami Taiga's intended shadow was very small, and very blue, and made his insides ache. </p><p>(where Kuroko and Kagami are bonded shadow and light, which would be great if Kuroko wasn't an illegal born outside of captivity)</p><p>PERMANENTLY UNFINISHED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

“It was a given.”

“Don’t call it that.”

“It was a given. Daiki Aomine was never yours.”

“I am aware.”

“Are you disappointed, Tetsuya?”

“No.”

“And his statistical reading?”

“Exceptional. However, his academic intelligence is abysmal.”

“Do you love him?”

“How could I not?”

“I will not be taken by such a false lure.”

“It is not false. Even Akashi-sama will fall for his intended.”

“I do not think so. You surprise me, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko doesn’t reply – fiddles with an errant thread broken loose from his jeans.

“His appearance?”

“Bright. Very red.”

“You say my hair is red?”

“A different red. There are different shades of colour.”

“As there are different shades of grey,” says Akashi, “and they suffice.”

..

Red – so very, very red.

And his world had burst with light.

..

“Wait,” says Himuro, raising a hand to brush his hair from his eyes. “He wasn’t in the Pound?”

“That’s what I said! He wasn’t there-”

“Relax, Taiga. Where was he, then?”

Kagami steels his nerves, heaves a great breath of air.

Breath One: he had met his shadow.

Breath two his shadow had been a stray – every parent’s nightmare come to life. In lieu of parental attendance, Himuro had been shaken from his common calming order 

breath three his shadow had been male. Not exactly what he’d expected, but he’s open to it and, even if he hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have mattered to the bond.

breath four just as the stories had told, darkness had spread from his shadow’s ghostly frame, spearing out into the undersides of cars and streetlamps, the overhang of shop doorframes, and everything is marked now with its own shadow, cool and flat under the harsh glow of sun and earth.

breath five six seven eight

“Just… Just walking, down the street. Like a normal person.”

Breath Nine: not normal. It could never be normal. The instant he’d laid eyes upon his shadow – small and blue with shining hair and fadeaway limbs – Kagami had been lost, his world shattered and realigned to cycle about this strange wraith.

“Did he see you?” says Himuro. His eyes are wide and dark, his features highlighted as Kagami had never seen them emphasised before: his nose and lips and the ridges of his eyes fringed with shadowy texture.

Kagami swallows. “Uh. Yeah. I think so.”

He knows so. The eye contact had done it, sent sparks shooting through his skin and blood and something inside him had fractured, adjusted, and Kagami knows he’ll never be able to jack off to anyone else ever again, could never find a bondless partner and settle for second best.

“What’s his number?” Himuro asks. “Stop shaking, Taiga.”

“I… I don’t know. It wasn’t there when I looked.”

Himuro frowns, gaze roving in and out of focus. “All bonded pairs are capable of accessing their partner’s information. Unless…”

“He’s never been tagged, I told you!”

“Impossible,” says Himuro. “Where do wild shadows come from? You’re... positive you two were bonded, and he didn’t simply… take your fancy?”

It was a bold move, even for Himuro, who wouldn’t receive his bonded until turning seventeen in two months’ time and couldn’t possibly understand, comprehend. Kagami slams his fist against the coffee table and nearly bellows, “I know what I saw! It was him, I found him, and I let him get away!”

“I’m sorry.”

The living room of Kagami’s sterile apartment rings in the silent aftermath.

After a while, Himuro says, “You’ve been tagged? He would’ve seen your name, at least. Perhaps he’ll come looking for you.”

“Not a chance,” Kagami scoffs. “Strays would sooner kill us.”

“I’ve never heard of a stray who killed their bonded light.”

“Maybe I’ll be the first.”

Himuro sighs, and says, “Here’s hoping mine’s in custody. I’d be hopeless at handling a stray.”

“What, you think I’ll be better?”

“Yes,” he replies, quite decisively. “I think if anyone could handle a slippery shadow, it would be you, Taiga, the Unwavering Light.”

“That’s just a stupid sports name,” Kagami mumbles.

“If we find him, he’ll come to school with you. Maybe he’ll like sports.”

“What kind of shadow plays sports?”

“Enough do. That Hyuuga… Junpei? Doesn’t he play for your team? Plays for your team, alright – isn’t his light a bloke?”

“Shut up,” says Kagami, as Himuro stifles a laugh behind his hand.

The newsreader coughs, in the middle of a sentence, punctuating the five-o-clock drawl. A fire started in Kyoto, a known rapist jailed, his female shadow crying screen-side. Kagami wonders how it’d feel to have a bond so shaken. He wonders how anyone could possibly stray from the side of their soul.

“They might give him a minder,” muses Himuro. “You know, if he’s loose at the moment. You said Hyuuga has a minder while Teppei’s in hospital. Riko? Isn’t her father on the SPA Watch roster?”

“Ahh. Maybe. Or they’ll lock him up for observation.”

“They can’t,” says Himuro, “It’s against protocol. Unless he’s killed someone, I think you’re both safe.”

Kagami thinks of the boy, his ghostly frame and eyes, wide and warm as the summer sky, widening as they locked onto him, flying across Kagami’s info. The shadow’s blue lips moving in _Kagami Taiga_ , a brush of pale tongue across teeth, and then going, going, gone, disintegrated into mist down some grubby alleyway.

“He couldn’t have. He looked so… small. So blue.”

Himuro snorts.

“What!? He was!”

“Write some poetry for me sometime, Taiga. Is the first sight really as great as it’s supposed to be?”

 Kagami moves to deny it, and finds his words stuck in his mouth. Had it been? It had felt like… an explosion. An exhilaration – jumping from a cliff, freefall into the ocean miles and miles below, and when he slapped the waves he was abruptly whole, and something that should’ve always been there is suddenly tucked against your chest.

“It’s… Er. It’s good. It feels good.”

“You’ve made me feel impatient…”

“That’s your fault.”

“If we find your shadow, you can have him straight away. Pretty unfair, don’t you think? You’ve barely scraped sixteen.”

“ _If_ we find him.”

Himuro smiles, squinting shut his eyes, a hint of gleaming teeth. “We’ll find him. We’ll find him now, if you’d like.”

“It’s… it’s late,” says Kagami, lamely. He struggles to keep his face expressionless, so the eager starburst at Himuro’s unexpected offer doesn’t leak through to his eyes. His face feels hot.

“In the morning, then,” says Himuro, “When Alex is home.”

Kagami pulls a face.

“Alright, then. We can find him when Alex leaves, in a week’s time, how about that?”

“Don’t fuck around.”

“She’ll notice.”

“She won’t.”

“How about when you register with the SPA?”

“How about I kick you out on your ass and you take the sleeper back to Akita?”

Himuro narrows his eyes and leans in. The chain around his neck, weighted with a ring, falls to swing like a pendulum between them. “You’re actually worried. This isn’t like you, Taiga.”

“Give it a rest, Tatsu.”

“Do you want to look for him now? I’ll walk with you.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll go in the morning.”

“I said I’d walk Alex back from the bar anyway,” says Himuro, gently. “Come on. It won’t take long.”

..

“His faux brother is Himuro Tatsuya.”

Kuroko shrugs, and tosses his basketball – recently procured from a nearby court, light domain – into the air, catches it, tosses. He wonders whether basketball leaves callouses. Rough callouses on large, warm hands.

“Himuro Tatsuya has played basketball against Daiki, on several occasions,” says Akashi Seijuurou. “I believe you have seen him from a distance. He is a tall boy, rather quiet. Skilled, yet lacking innate talent.”

“Why’s Akashicchi so interested in him?” says Kise. “Is he yours?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I mention him because he and Taiga are evidently close. They will come this way soon, looking for you, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko stills.

“Ah!” says Kise, “I want to meet Kurokocchi’s light!”

“You will be the first, Ryouta. I am sure you will relate best to him, given your own status.”

“Ahh… I haven’t seen the sun in days… I think you’re turning me into a shadow, Akashicchi- _sama_. Is that your aim?”

“My aim is to remove you from the trouble you so often find yourself in.”

“I’ll be in trouble if I don’t go home soon! My parents think I’m in Amsterdam!”

“They will continue to believe so until I say otherwise. Go outside, and introduce yourself to Kagami Taiga. Tell him to cease his inevitable search for Tetsuya.”

Kuroko’s fingers clench and tremble, and he fights the urge to throw the ball at Akashi’s head. He wants nothing more than to see him, to talk to him, to touch him and know he is real.

“No,” says Akashi, tapping the ball lightly from his grip, “You will see him after Shintarou has run a full background scan, and deemed him appropriate.”

“Appropriate or not, he is my light.”

“You are our shadow, Kuroko. You are not to be registered with the Shadowkind Protection Association. All extenuating circumstances must be made explicit to Taiga before you are permitted to meet.”

Kuroko’s eyes flick to Kise who, for once, looks rather sheepish. “Sorry, Kurokocchii. I’ll say hi from you!” He starts towards the door, flickers back towards Kuroko, then darts up the stairs and away.

“He’ll feel guilty,” Kuroko says, thrusting as much accusation into his voice as he can muster.

“He’ll feel guiltier if you are detained by the SPA, in the same fashion as Atsushi. We cannot afford another such incident.”

“I am not Atsushi.”

“You are not,” agrees Akashi. “You are far more valuable.”

“I’m not.”

“You wish for your freedom? For our freedom?”

“Of course.”

“Meeting your light is simply an unfortunate obstruction. That is all.”

Upstairs, a door slams. Drifting in from outside, Kuroko hears Kise’s exclamations of delight, of diversion. Diverting Kuroko’s light from Kuroko.

“Surely,” says Akashi, very softly, “You are not considering a normal life.”

Kuroko’s lips part over bared teeth, and he snarls, “What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t, of course. You may indulge yourself in dreams. Are you quite done preening yourself, Tetsuya?”

Muffled voices: one light and golden, a darker black, a thrumming red which resonates everywhere and ripples shocks across his skin.

“Yes,” says Kuroko. “I understand.”

..

Kise Ryota gleamed with energy.

Kise Ryota was a light, bonded to a shadow, and Kagami desperately wanted to know what he was doing down here, in a hidden alcove between two buildings on a crowded Tokyo laneway. Kise puts a slender finger to his lips, almost purrs like a cat.

“Kurokocchi wanted me to say hello!”

“Who the hell is Kurokocchi? I’m looking for-”

“Kuroko,” Kise interrupts. His slanted, golden eyes dart towards Himuro, up and down, assessing. “You are Himuro Tatsuya, yes? You know Aominecchi! You’ve played basketball together – you may not remember. And you-”

Kise barely breaks for breath. The height difference between Kagami and Kise is not great, but Kagami shuffles under his scrutiny, feeling ten sizes too large.

“- Kagami Taiga. Kurokocchi described you well!”

“Who is-”

“Your intended!” Kise beams, flaring like the sun. “Your bonded, your shadow. Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“Is that what he prefers to be called?” asks Himuro. Kagami stiffens, hearing the frost licking Himuro’s every word.

“It’s his name,” says Kise, pouting. “His mother gave it to him.”

Kuroko Tetsuya. Tetsuya. Kagami Tetsuya.

“Can I see him?” Kagami exclaims – looking behind Kise, over his own shoulder. His shadow’s name is Kuroko Tetsuya.

Kise shakes his head, regretfully. His hands slip into his pockets.

“Of course not,” hisses Himuro, “You’re Agency, and everyone knows Aomine Daiki. His intended could’ve done a better job mopping up, when she leached Ryou's intel. Wakamatsu shot himself, you know. Better that than live without.”

Kise’s smile sharpens. His eyes gleam cold as night. “Let’s not discuss this. I’m only a messenger, Himuro.”

“There is nothing to stop me,” says Himuro, quite conversationally, “from turning you in. Famous model, Kise. You’d cause a stir.”

Kise remains fixated on Kagami. He slips his phone from his pocket – glossy black casing – and says, “You won’t. If either of you breathe a word, Kurokocchi will disappear, and you will never see him again.”

Himuro growls. Kagami’s face whitens.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, you know. This is quite the favour. What’s Kagamicchi’s number?”

“Don’t,” warns Himuro.

Kise dangles the phone between manicured fingernails.

Kagami’s fists clench at his sides, and he rattles off a list of numbers. His phone buzzes in the back pocket of his jeans.

“There! Now you can text Kurokocchi and me, when you get lonely! I don’t really know when you’ll get to see him next… Probably in a month’s time, knowing Kurokocchi – he’ll get sick of waiting and come find you. Hear that? _He’ll_ find _you_. We’re moving locations, anyway, so coming back here’ll be useless.”

Kagami nods dumbly, feeling for his phone, and lets Himuro tug him back up the lane and out into the bright, cold city.

Kise lingers, watching them until they go, and then tosses his phone into the nearest bin.

..

“Wakamatsu?” is the first thing Kagami says.

Himuro scowls, ugly, and says, “Yeah. That Touou kid who shot himself last Spring. We weren’t acquainted, but I’d met his shadow several times prior. He called himself Wakamatsu Ryou. Hopelessly shy, stuttered every second word. Good kid, though – kind, loyal, self-sacrificing – the ideal shadow. Contacted by information broker Momoi Satsuki, the shadow bonded of light Aomine Daiki, whom I happen to know too well for my liking. Satsuki ripped every bit of knowledge he had of the SPA, then framed him for the authorities to find.”

“They found him.”

“Of course. They found him, beat the life out of him. He told them everything he knew about Momoi – forced her into hiding, even.”

“What?”

“The Agency killed Ryou, left him strung up for his light to find. No one can confirm it, but I’m willing to bet on Aomine.”

Kagami thinks of Kise, his sharp eyes and wide smile. He thinks of Kuroko, and wonders if murder was really so far-fetched after all. He tries to imagine Aomine, to imagine the demeanour of a killer. He’d disappeared, too. It’d been all over the news, a while back, when Kagami had only recently moved to Japan. A minor by law – they couldn’t show his face.

Himuro nudges his shoulder, attempting a smile. “It’s alright. Don’t they say you’ll do anything for your intended? He won’t hurt you.”

Kagami thinks of Wakamatsu, and stiffens. Thinks of finding a dead Kuroko in his apartment. Feels something inside him rip itself to shreds of phantom agony.

Alex sees them both, as she exits the bar at Himuro’s call. She giggles, says Himuro looks grim, says maybe Kagami needs a drink more than she has, and Himuro fakes a very realistic laugh.

..

_1:06 – > Kuroko? _

_1:08 <– Hello, Kagami. _

_~~1:08~~ – ~~> shit~~_

_~~1:08~~ – ~~> I don’t really know~~_

_~~1:09~~ – ~~> you ~~_

_~~1:09 – > I miss you~~ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is that crappy unedited fic  
> I hate it when the author chops the storyline into little fragments within a prologue and wow I just did sorry about that  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like Aomine. This isn’t a bashfic.
> 
> I’m not a fan of using Japanese honorifics in my own writing. I’m aware, however, of the issue of first/last names, in a world where the culture is pretty markedly different. I've included a little explanation in the endnotes, if you'd like to read it.

Kise returns home, and to school, the following morning, patting bronzed eyeshadow beneath his eyes to suggest a sleepless plane flight. He bears photographs from his true visitation to Amsterdam, two weeks earlier, for his parents and older sisters to peruse.

And Yukiochii. But he never wanted to look at Kise’s photos. Yukio would rather beat Kise over the head with them to chide his vanity.

He’s in Kise’s room – Kise can tell as soon as he walks through the front door, fussed over by his tall, glamorous mother – studying, studying, studying for his final exams. He wants to study business, will inevitably grow into Kise’s personal manager. When Kise opens the door, Yukio fumbles his pen. His knees crack at the speed with which he stands – dark hair disarrayed eyes a marine of want cheeks flushed a pale, inviting red – and Kise’s there to meet his shadow in the middle.

Yukiocchi is warm, smells clean from the shower.

Clean, thinks Kise. Grins wickedly.

Kise’s large hand slides from the small of Yukio’s back to his legs, to the curve of his ass, and the familiar shock of warmth floats between them as Yukio gasps and arches back, clutching at Kise’s pressed shirt.

“No,” he moans, “no, Kise.”

Kise clicks his tongue, bites at Yukio’s upper lip. “Ry-o-ta.”

“Ryota, stop. I’m-”

Kise’s lips drop to the curve of Yukio’s shoulder, dragging the cloth aside with his teeth to bite hard –

“I’m _mad_ at you, Ryota. Ryota, you’re such… such a shithead…”

“Yukiocchi’s so mean to me~”

“I – No! You don’t leave for nearly a month and come crawling back here looking like that! Where have you been? I called your management and they told me you’d returned a fortnight ago. Do you know how worried I was?”

“Shh,” Kise breathes, fingers dipping beneath the hem of Yukio’s shirt. “I’ll tell you. Yukiocchi, I missed you, I missed you. I missed you every day, every minute, but Akashicchi needed my help-”

Two shots of anger – the first, Yukio’s accumulated worry and anger threading through their long-developed bond, the second, Yukio’s strong hands smacking his chest – force Kise backward and away from his flushed, furious Yukiocchi.

“Yukiocc- Yukio,” says Kise, curling inward, aching as his shadow aches.

“Ryota, you listen to me. You aren’t leaving home on a modelling job without me again. I don’t care,” he growls, glare thick and blue-black like a bruise, “what this Akashi says. You aren’t his. You’re… you’re mine, Ryo!”

“I am Yukiocchi’s,” Kise mumbles, shamefaced.

Yukio stares up at him, a blur of annoyance, pity. “Don’t you forget it, idiot.”

“I’m sorry,” says Kise, “really. But Akashicchi would kill me if I told you.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t! You couldn’t have missed me all too much, you egotistical, self-centred, self-absorbed excuse for a partner!”

“Yukiocchi doesn’t understand the position I’m in!”

“I have my suspicions.”

A barrage of distrust, mistrust, blasts Kise through the bond. Yukio glares into his soul, testing the raw membrane dividing them, and Kise spares a last, lingering thought for what Akashi would think, what he would say, before letting his Yukio slip into his conscious.

A flicker of yesterday, a plane flight, a darkened room, staring down the muzzle of a camera, nights in spacious empty hotels aching lonely, Kise’s hand slipping into his boxers again again again, two lights on a darkened street redhead ink black, the brilliant red of Akashi Seijuurou’s hair, Momoi Satsuki’s tearful face spiked with regret and impossible pain.

Aomine Daiki, fist clenched in pale hair, kissing Kuroko Tetsuya.

A file, manila folder, numbers dates a very detailed map of a facility too familiar to Yukio.

They surface.

Yukio’s face is blank with fear, shock. “Agency,” he says. “Kise.”

Kise says nothing. His face is as handsome as ever, as bright, and Yukio aches to kiss him.

“You weren’t… Never mind.”

His eyes burn brilliant, sharp, weighted with devotion. “Never. I would never betray Yukiocchi.”

“You can’t blame me for wondering. But. You’re with the Agency?”

“Ahh. Yes. I’m sorry.”

Yukio’s fingers clench in the bedspread. “Don’t be. I should’ve realised.”

“You couldn’t have!” And Kise moves to collect him, collect Yukio in his arms and let the familiar binding heat seep around and through them.

“You never treated me like I’m fragile,” says Yukio, “or tried to protect me.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No! Just. Normal lights don’t treat their shadows like you treat me.” Yukio fidgets. He ducks his head. “That’s all.”

“I’m glad,” Kise crows, and squeezes his shadow tighter.

“I’m still mad.”

“I promise I’ll bring you next time!”

“You’re not allowed out of the house without me.”

“Aw, has school been boring without me?”

 “Certainly not as exciting as whatever you’ve been doing.”

Kise buries his head in the crook of Yukio’s neck, feeling warmth spread from his lips. “Mm. Exciting things. My friend found his light.”

“That’s good.”

“Not really, Yukiocchi. My friend’s a bit… different.”

“Kise,” growls Yukio.

“Alright, alright! Um. My friend’s been banned from seeing his light. By Akashicchi. Ah. Kuroko Tetsuya.”

Yukio stills. “Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“Ah… Yes?”

“You’ve been harbouring Kuroko Tetsuya?”

“Keeping him safe,” says Kise, somewhat hurt. “He’s the most-”

“The most wanted shadow alive! He’s a myth.”

“He isn’t! He’s so cute, and he’s really quiet, and it’s like he disappears if you stop paying attention to him. Akashicchi thinks if he practices hard enough, Kurokocchi might be able to become completely invisible. He’s really sweet, too, even when he’s teasing me, and he just found his light Yukiocchi please don’t hit me-”

“I’m not going to hit you, though I should.”

“Okay, okay, but Yukiocchi, his light is Kagami Taiga. He’s a basketball player and American returnee, at Seirin, and he’s a complete idiot, Yukiocchi, you think I’m bad but you have no idea. He knows nothing about anything, and Kurokocchi’s ambiguous about everything, even when Akashicchi allows him to talk. It’s a mess! Yukiocchi, what do I do? I don’t like seeing Kurokocchi sad!”

“Ah,” mumbles Yukio, “That’s what you’re getting at.”

“Please? Please, Yukio?” Kise’s voice is a breathy whine, shivering the air in Yukio’s ear down his spine. Unbelievable.

“I’ll consider it.”

Kise begins to mouth down his neck.

..

“Ridiculous,” says Yukio, tugging at the sleeves of his Kaijou blazer. “Fucking ridiculous.”

A gaggle of light girls glance at him nervously, scattering laughter like salt.

All up the little promenade to Seirin high, students, teenagers, some teachers – predominantly light, of course – shoot him furtive glances, nervous stares. He recognises the few shadows he does see, from his SPA age bracket. These shadows trail along behind third year light partners; some retain the strained awkwardness of the recently bonded, others linking hands and fingers all comfortable and in love. For the tenth time in the last hour, he thinks of Kise, held back for basketball practice. The captain, light Kobori Koji, has proven an intense, dedicated leader – had accepted Yukio’s excuse of visiting a younger sibling still in SPA custody, yet didn’t acknowledge whiny, selfish Kise’s desire to accompany him.

“One seven.”

Yukio feels a tick darting in his temple. He had always respected Kiyoshi Junpei’s stability, his straightforward undertaking of SPA training whilst their peers complained. Junpei, however, was not deferent. His minder, a small light girl with determined features, walked at his side and not his front.

“It’s Kise Yukio, now.”

“Kise? The model?”

Yukio smiles wryly. “He’s the one. Complete idiot, but you know how it is. You can’t help but like them.”

Junpei nods. “You here for something, Yukio?”

Yukio looks down at the girl.

She smiles, and says, “I’ll wait over here for you, Junpei. Nice meeting you, Kise.”

“Who is she?” asks Yukio, when the girl is out of earshot.

“Minder,” says Junpei. He rolls his eyes. “Aida Riko. She’s kind. Understanding. You know, as nice as she can be.”

“Kiyoshi’s still in hospital?”

“That bastard Hanamiya did him in. The doctors say Teppei’ll be able to play next season, but he’s the type to overextend himself.”

The Iron Heart, Kiyoshi Teppei, whom Yukio had encountered on the basketball court only once, in his second year. Yukio thinks his kindness, his bottomless energy would fit clutch-happy Junpei well.

“Hanamiya should be on probation. Hasn’t your team applied for damages?”

Junpei scowls, shakes his head. His glasses slide a little down his nose. “Hanamiya’s a light. There’s nothing someone like me can do about it, and Teppei’s too soft.”

“You’re still playing basketball?”

“Yeah. I’m captain now.”

Inwardly, Yukio grins. “Congratulations,” he says. “How are your first years?”

“Pains in the ass, you know that. There’s one, though. He’s better than all of them put together. Maybe better than Teppei.”

For Junpei, that was high praise.

“Not better than Kaijo, though. Kise’s a force of nature.”

Junpei grins – which, for Junpei, is more so a baring of teeth. “Maybe. He’s a returnee, trained in America by some hotshot ex-WNBA player.”

“Returnee? What’s his name?”

“Kagami Taiga. Aida wanted to match him up with Aomine Daiki sometime, but given what’s happened, I doubt Daiki will be open to many practice games for a while. Fucking monster.” There’s an old anger in his voice, rich and thick with rage, and Yukio knows he himself must appear equally as grim.

“That’s the one. Kise’s pretty interested in him. Wants to arrange a practice match. You think Aida can make do with him instead?”

Junpei nods. He glances at Aida, patiently playing some game on her phone, then looks back towards the school. “I’ll tell her,” he says, slowly.

..

When Aida asks, Junpei tells her Yukio was sent to set up a one-on-one, with Kagami.

..

“Oi. Are you Kagami Taiga?”

“Yeah?”

Kagami Taiga was explosive flaming bright, from his red-tinted hair to his long calves to his large hands, dragging his jersey over his head. The air around him shocks energy through the room – he looks somewhat dazed, eyes shadowed with lost sleep.

Yukio nods, calculating. “I’m Kise Yukio, shadow to Kise Ryota.”

“Oh,” says Kagami. Yukio presumes he’s aiming for nonchalance, but the light in his deep red eyes betrays him. “You. Have you seen Kuroko?”

“I didn’t know he existed until last night. I’m in the dark on all this, but Kise asked me to talk to you.” Asked him, begged him, even bit him for heaven’s sake, and Yukio can still feel the bruises smarting all the way down the line of his spine.

Kagami tugs a clean sweatshirt on, and slams his locker shut. Power ripples through the muscles of his arms, energy nearly sparking in the air around him, and Yukio has never seen a more powerful light save for the indomitable Aomine Daiki.

Yukio hopes Kagami has a larger heart than Daiki.

“Why?” says Kagami, nonplussed.

“About Kuroko. You’re a returnee, right?”

“You could say that,” says Kagami, “I’ve been back one month.”

“Lost?”

“Yeah. Americans bond earlier.”

“How early?”

“Five.”                                                                                                                     

Yukio jerks his head towards the door, and astonishingly, Kagami follows him out of the change room and out into the rain-dulled afternoon. The students have mostly departed, the few that remain too young to care about the relationships of Lights and Shadows, still engrossed in friendships and peer rivalries and kid siblings. 

“You’re more respectful.”

Kagami shrugs his large shoulders. “Americans bond at five. Integrated schools, and everything. It’s pretty different.”

“Better for us,” says Yukio. Shadows, he means.

“I guess.”

Yukio assumes Kagami has never really thought about it. Not many lights do – the SPA was a system tried and tested, implemented in its varying incarnations for over two hundred years. Kise is a literally blinding exception, the way he sparkles with concern for Yukio, love for Yukio, and hadn’t needed any time at all to warm up to the idea of sharing his home, siblings and parents with Yukio. Yukio is lucky.

“What does Kise want?”

“You to see Kuroko.”

“Didn’t sound like it, when we… when I ran into him.”

“It’s not his choice. You live alone, right?”

Kagami huffs an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his choppy hair. “You want to come over?”

“Not out of personal choice, I promise.”

“You’re not going to kill me, or something?”

Yukio nearly rolls his eyes.

..

He realises, within ten minutes of walking to Maji Burger, ordering takeaway, and wandering past the park and a cluster of young girls playing a lazy game of streetball, that Kagami Taiga is very much like an improved, saner version of Aomine Daiki. He carries himself with the same casual confidence-bordering-on-arrogance, the same lope of the shoulders – but while Aomine’s grin is dead, Kagami still smiles with fresh light as he looks at the courts, the brightness of the autumn sky.

Yukio thinks of Aomine, the Agency, Ryou, Kise, vain and sly, clingy and irritating. Kise cares with everything he has. Yukio wrinkles his nose at the thought of Aomine around Kise.

Aomine is also slovenly, whereas Kagami Taiga’s large apartment is quite neat. The fridge is fully stocked, mostly with uncooked meat and rice in plastic containers. Kagami motions awkwardly to Yukio to make himself at home, and Yukio seats himself at the kotatsu.

He returns momentarily, in a tank top and sweats.

“Kuroko is your light?”

Kagami rolls his eyes, and slumps across from him. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Alright. You don’t know anything about him, though.”

“I haven’t even met him!”

“Nor have I,” says Yukio, “but everyone knows of Kuroko Tetsuya. Kuroko’s something like an urban legend. There was a report of a sighting by an upper SPA official, about ten, eleven years ago, of an unmarked shadow who could become invisible.”

The muscles of Kagami’s shoulders ripple nervously, the tips of his hair sparking a little. “That’s impossible. That shouldn’t exist anymore.”

“Not for someone born out of a hospital, or out of the Pound, in Kuroko’s case,” says Yukio, motioning to himself. “There are enough lights who have retained some power. Aomine Daiki. My partner, Kise. The shadow, Momoi Satsuki. It’s a bit of a stretch, but you probably have something too. A shadow as powerful as Kuroko won’t be paired with an ordinary light.”

“So Kuroko’s like… a God?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Yukio sighs. “They’re just stories shadows tell. The SPA’s alright, but it’s not exactly a friendly environment. Little kids with ghost stories.”

When Kagami doesn’t answer, Yukio says, “Same reason more light guys cheat than light girls, or shadows. Their shadow wives can only give birth to shadow children. They cheat to suppress the pain.”

“They can’t blame their shadow, though,” says Kagami. “She can’t help it.”

“She can’t,” Yukio agrees, “but we all throw blame around when we’re upset.”

“The SPA’s wrong! You can’t just take kids away from their families.”

“Is the rate of infidelity any better in America?”

Kagami shrugs, and says, “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“It’s worse, because American bonded are thrown together almost from birth. Despite the lure, they get sick of each other. They want to try new things. They stray in their teenage years, and some keep on straying.”

“It’s better than having your child removed-”

“Some men, American men, are forced to stray by their families because their male partners can’t bear children. I wouldn’t accept that from Kise, and Kuroko sure as hell wouldn’t accept that from you, Returnee.”

“At least,” says Kagami, through gritted teeth, “At least lights respect shadows, in America.”

Yukio breathes deeply. He counts backwards from ten.

“You’re in luck, asshole. Kuroko’s part of the Agency.”

“Aomine’s Agency?”

“The Agency is led by a free shadow named Akashi Seijuurou. His father is a prominent businessman; the whole family’s rich as hell, have been for generations. Akashi’s his real name – his father refused to let Seijuurou be branded with a number.”

Sure as winter’s end, Kagami’s eyes flicker to Yukio’s neck, to where Yukio’s number is tattooed beneath the collar of his shirt.

“Aomine is part of it. So is Kise. So are we, by extension. No point running to the SPA. They’ll do you in, now, too.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Kagami turns oddly subdued, after his prior outburst of rage. He is an impulsive character, likely as impulsive as Kuroko is reserved. Yukio had worried over Kagami, whether Kagami would be suitable for Kuroko; now Yukio questions the suitability of Kuroko, sly, fabled Kuroko, managing to escape captivity for over a decade, for such a frank and stupidly moral light.

“The Agency shares similar views to you on the SPA, the treatment of shadowkind in general. If Akashi had it his way, every shadow in captivity would be released, and Japan would return to as it was prior to the Meiji Restoration: geographically divided into two city states governed by a council.

“It goes pretty much unquestioned that Akashi Seijuurou would lead this new society. But he knows, despite how powerful he is, that Kuroko Tetsuya is basically essential to knocking down the SPA.”

“He’s,” says Kagami, and swallows. “Akashi’s not going to let me see Kuroko.”

“Maybe not.” Yukio attempts to school his expression into an encouraging smile. “But I think Kuroko wants to meet you.”

The look of pathetic hope on Kagami’s face is plenty enough for Yukio to understand why Kise was falling over himself to help them. Kise has always been very taken with romance and overt displays of emotion. Yukio tries to imagine having seen Kise before his time in SPA protection - imagines being indefinitely separated from Kise - and something inside him turns a little colder.

“What if it doesn’t matter what Kuroko wants? Akashi’s keeping him-”

“Akashi needs to keep Kuroko. Technically, Kuroko could go anywhere – though the Agency is admittedly safer.”  Yukio grimaces, ducking his head. Even if it’s more dangerous for Kise. Kagami has a year, at the very most, until he mandatorily visited the SPA on his seventeenth birthday and they registered him as having already found his shadow, a shadow whose name they wouldn’t be able to discern. And with that came the numbing realisation that Kise and Kuroko and Akashi have sunk them both.

..

Kagami’s phone rings, while he’s in the kitchen heating egg rice.

Himuro Tatsuya, reads the caller identification – “Oh, he’s scary,” Kise had whined, “I don’t like him.”

“Someone named Himuro’s on the phone,” Yukio calls out.

“Just leave it,” says Kagami.

Himuro rings again, and again, and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In general, lights refer to shadows by the surname of their partner (see: Riko on Kise Yukio).  
> 2\. Shadows refer to unrelated lights by last name; Shadows lacking respect for an unrelated light will refer to these lights by their first names (back in shogun era, a shadow was forbidden to refer to any light but their own by first name).  
> 3\. In general, shadows refer to each other by first name, out of mutual respect  
> 4\. Shadows severely lacking respect for another shadow will refer to them by their SPA number.


End file.
